[hider=Definitely Not A Fox Demon][center][img]https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSVKgwUUm0G71bQFZGXprj-slHXnuJ-_o4hj4JjAwc-qCW9U4fCzB9oWK8&s=10[/img][/center]
[sub][h3][center]
[color=black]'𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕤𝕦'[/color]
[color=#0FFFA7] '𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕤𝕦'
[/color][/center][/h3][/sub]
[center][color=#0FFFA7]A g e:[/color] ?? | [color=black]R a n k:[/color] Onsen Proprietress 
[/center]
[b][u][sup][color=#0FFFA7]P e r s o n a l i t y[/color][/sup][/u] :[/b]
    Business is a game of charm and wit, and without those two things [b]Mura[/b] would not be able to live the life she wished to live. Perhaps at some point in the past she may have been less refined— walked with less graceful steps, sparked up in anger, allowed sadness to alter her poignant words. But like a tumbled stone over countless years every rough edge has been smoothed down to leave no trace of that former woman. 
   
    [b]Mura[/b] is quiet yet charismatic. Wise but measured. She is an eerie in the way that she knows more than she ever lets others glean, and unveils even less unless a price is paid in exchange. Few people know of the woman’s existence, but those that do have expressed caution in making deals with the [b]fox-eared[/b] devil. There are so many rumors that she may be a Kitsune, or something else ancient and uninterested for the most part in the goings about of mortals. While that is not the case, every rumor has some root of truth to it.

    [b]Mura[/b] is a deceiver, not unlike many politickers in the modern age. While every threaded lie may not be malicious to the receiver, it can be certain that every droll over her tongue holds some ulterior motive that benefits her. She is a creature that holds nothing back in the venture to gain what she most desires, and there are few people with the means to stop her. This demon is not the type to enter a village with her blade drawn intending to slaughter any who stand in her way— instead she would rather flutter her lashes and speak sweet nothings, moving pieces on the board until the time comes for her to enter the spotlight herself.

[b][u][sup][color=#0FFFA7]S h o w a  S e c r e t[/color][/sup][/u] :[/b]    There was a time when simplicity was more than enough for a life well-lived. Waking to the usual routine of sweeping the dusty floorboards and raking the temple grounds carried with it pride alongside the mundanity. She could not recall exactly when the breaking point was in those dull yet peaceful days— something pushed her to the edge on that fateful night but it was so long ago that she can hardly remember. But what she could, is the moment that pastel red and powder white smoke entered the ground, and with it the smell of burning paper.

    And when she awoke, the simplicity of life was swept out from beneath her feet. Replacing it was something tempestuous and tumultuous, such a paradigm shift left the newborn demon lost and guideless for some time. The instinct of a demon in their earliest days is said to the strongest, and along with the hunger was the aching stench of perfume that remained in her nose, the last trace of the figure that saved them. Or perhaps doomed them, depending on the lens in which you looked at her circumstances.

Those earliest years were soul crushing.

    But the strong strive on, and while in another life she may have surrendered to the cursed life that had been thrust upon her— now she simply remained out of willpower seeking purpose in an ever changing world. Whilst hunting one night, she was found by a slayer of her kind. They were as beautiful as they were fearsome, a man with violet eyes that swung a blade that made no sound. In their dance of unrequited love something awakened in her, a change that sparked inspiration like a brushstroke upon empty canvas. It wasn’t until that very moment that the woman claimed a name for herself, as the countless ravens watched from the treetops did she tell her one true love.

“𝕄𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕤𝕦.”

    She could not tell how many times she might have died that night, nor he. But as the darkened sky began to warm into shades of gold, the symphony they danced to would come to an end. The wounded slayer chased the demon as she fled, and no matter how beautiful their swordsmanship might’ve been, the distance would grow rapidly until the demon was long gone. There was a sense of sadness in that departure. In passing nights it would almost push Mura to spill human blood needlessly, just to draw the ire of her beloved. But she had no death wish, and killed only out of necessity through her travels made rules to follow to prevent her nomadic life from being ruined.

    Years would pass, and the young demon would grow fittingly into her new lifestyle. Mura would slowly blend back into human civilization seamlessly, learning to hide her demonic traits, restrain her predatory instincts, and even make a reasonable income for herself along the way. It was after she became comfortable in walking among the humans that she would cross paths with that fated person once again. The smell of pine, dusty brown hair, violet eyes … [𝘿𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙍𝙊𝙔]!

    It was at the summer festival, a passing face in the crowd that did not even offer a cursory glance upon her. He was older now, she drunk in every detail of his face, and even though the years left marks and scars upon his face— the spark that was there remained all the same. All that Mura could think about in that moment, was how quickly she could get that man to draw his blade. There was a time and a place for such romantics, and she would not dare allow others to witness a beauty that she deemed for her eyes only. So instead one of her familiars would set their eyes upon the man, to watch the slayer for the days-weeks- or months to come. Patiently awaiting like a spider eager for a fly to land within its web. 

And eventually, that day would come.

    Far from the town she had settled herself within, further from the small villages that surrounded it, he hunted a much younger and unruly demon that ravaged a forest frequented by hunters. Perched upon the treetops she watched as the slayer made short work of the scourge, and just then she would make her presence known. He remembered her, and upon uttering her name it set Mura’s blood ablaze and the fireflies within her stomach scattered amongst the flames. Their battle lasted for days, neither of them were willing to flee, and the forest canopy offered the demon reprieve for as long as she wished.

    But his physical limits would eventually bring their dance to an end, as his breathing techniques taxed the man to the brink of death— the silent sword swung by the man now whipped against the wind. Sorrow filled her from head to clawed toe. So she left him there, and ran far away with dread spilling from her eyes as trees whipped past her. Hoping that one day a man could make her heart sing like that man did all those years ago. And that’s where her story ends… or begins?

[color=black]_________________________________________________________________________[/color]
[sub][h3][center]
[color=black]'K e k k ī j u t s u'[/color]
[color=#E5E4E2] 'K e k k ī j u t s u'
[/color][/center][/h3][/sub]
[b][u][sup][color=#0FFFA7]B l o o d  D e m o n  A r t[/color][/sup][/u] :[/b] A Tale of Friendship • 友情物語
    The offensive capability of Mura’s blood demon art simply does not exist, and instead, has a unique peculiarity just like the demon who granted her this second life. When this demon’s blood is introduced to a deceased creature of the earth, the substance spreads throughout their lifeless body and overtakes their nervous system. The lifeless creature is then given a second [b]false[/b]-life, acting as a familiar to the art’s wielder. A bond must then be formed with the familiar to meld her senses with their own, allowing her to see through their eyes and them through her own in perpetuity.

    The majority of these familiars take the form of crows, and are visually distinct by their red demonic eyes that reflect that of their creator. There are other creature under her influence, ones that are plentiful and commonly seen in residential areas; rats, cats, even a few stray canines have been conscripted into the ensemble. The main combative capability of Mura is purely based on her own physical prowess and the skill she’s accumulated over the years— at most she may utilize her familiar’s senses scattered across a battlefield to get an upper hand on whatever opponent she may be facing. Or maybe that’s what she would like you to think?
 
✧ [b]Signature ___ Eternal Companionship :[/b] It is difficult to kill what is already dead, and the bond between Mura and her familiars transcends the barrier of life and death. The creature caught under her spell are loyal both due to her demon art as well as the compassion she shows the abominations. Because of this, it isn’t uncommon for Mura’s familiars to push themselves to absolute destruction in order to protect her— and should she be nearby and materials be available, she will assuredly mend them back to form so they can return to their duties. The old proprietress is not feared due to her overwhelming power, few have even seen the woman fight despite the stolen nichirin blade at her hip. But instead she is feared because of her resourcefulness in combination with the art’s versatile use within the city. Buildings may not be razed and buildings may not burn, but the rodent or the raven are always watching.

✧ [b]Secondary ___ Bond of the Fletcher :[/b] Should the machinations of the proprietress fall through and she find herself backed into a corner, dire situations call for dire solutions. A great wolf will be called upon, struck to death by hunters hundreds of years ago with their arrows still punctured through its side. With armies of ravens and rats, what could a wolf do you might ask? Plenty— if it is no longer restricted by the binds of the mortal coil. The wolf moves with the speed and strength of a demon and it spares no breathless movement to rip and tear at Mura’s enemy. She fights alongside the ancient canine, syncing her senses with the wolf to surgically carve down their shared enemy.


✧ [b]Finisher ___ Bond of the Destroyer :[/b] The ace up her sleeve is a man, donning the head of a bear to hide his identity whilst wearing a demon slayer’s coat, he wields a standard tanto but carefully delivers brutally strikes with devastating strength. Mura’s gift greatly enhances his physical capability and allows him to let loose without the fear of injury, but when the pair fight in unison her opponent would begin to wonder. Why is it that they never have any openings? Mura’s kenjutsu is clearly some derivative stolen from a hashira of the past, but nonetheless, she performs feats impossible for a human to emulate those that could be performed with breathing techniques. The swordsmanship style’s strength is in its speed and unpredictability, striking before the enemy can react and moving on rather than trying to focus on singular blows.




[color=black]_________________________________________________________________________[/color]

[b][u][sup][color=#0FFFA7]T r a n s f o r m a t i o n[/color][/sup][/u] :[/b]    The transformation level of Mura from her previous physicality is difficult to discern on a passing glance. To an individual meeting her for the first time, she would appear as a normal human at first, but then they would notice; the strange shape of her pupils, what appears to be ears atop her head, and should one of her blood-infused familiars pass by they would inevitably begin to connect the dots. Her canines are long and sharp as any predator’s would be, and as she sips her tea you would assuredly begin to smell that acrid metallic tinge of blood.[/hider]